100 Theme Challenge
by Kaffee und Sahne
Summary: The original 100 themes, ranging from fluff to angst, K to M. Various pairings, PruCan, USUK, SuFin, GerIta, Spamano, PruAus. 009 - Drive - "Hey, Artie, let's take a road trip." USUK. 067 - Playing the Melody - Christmas has never been sweeter. PruAus
1. 1 Introduction USUK

Arthur could not have been happier with the weather. The sun was shining, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the soft breeze gave cool relief from the comfortable seventy-six-degree air. The blond Briton sighed in content as he stared out of the window of the student council room, observing students milling about outside on the ground. Ah, yes, this was going to be a very relaxing afternoon.

Unless, of course, the door was opened and the space occupied by a crudely obnoxious young man. Arthur frowned and turned away from the window to berate... er… observe the newcomer. He blushed immediately.

The blue and white National Academy uniform was neatly pressed under a bulky vintage flight jacket, the clothes hiding a tall, lean, and more than likely muscular build. As Arthur tried to see if it was related to the Royal Air Force, he found his gaze traveling up to the face of the owner. His heart caught in his throat. A mop of combed blond hair topped a shocked expression, and hidden behind thin, lopsided glasses, were two impeccably perfect, see-through-your-soul, rather confused, ocean-blue eyes. This man… was gorgeous.

Arthur fought back the harsh redness in his cheeks and cleared his throat. "H-how may I help you?" He cursed the hiccup in his voice.

The beautiful stranger blinked for as second before shaking his head roughly, knocking his glasses down his nose as he gave Arthur a wide grin. "Yeah! Hey, nice to meet you, I'm Alfred Jones!" He rushed forward and took one of the surprised Briton's hands in his own, shaking it vigorously.

Arthur cringed. Oh, so he was _American_. The student council president pulled his hand away from… Alfred, was it? and smiled gingerly. "A pleasure, I'm sure." He paused, hesitant. He wasn't too keen on assisting the other blond anymore, his first impression being that of an obnoxious and excited American. Arthur sighed to himself in defeat. He knew that as president, he was obligated to help, or at least attempt to help other students. "May I ask what it is that you need help wi-"

"Your eyes are really pretty…"

Arthur paused, eyes wide and his dreaded blush returning. What!? Leave it to forward and shameless Americans. "I-I beg your pardon?"

Alfred's expression suddenly matched that of the Briton's. "W-what?" Um… o-okay!" His blue eyes quickly averted themselves to the ground.

The blond president blinked, confused at the vague, and rather unrelated response, and cleared his throat once more. "W-well… seeing as you appear to be new here-"

"What's your name?"

Really! Anymore interruption and Alfred Jones was going out the window! "Arthur Kirkland, student council president. However, at the present time I will be obligated-"

"Can I call you Artie?"

"No you may not!" Arthur fumed, directing a heavy glare toward the American. His arms crossed indignantly over his chest as his blush returned once more, turning his ears a deep scarlet. "Really, do you want me to help you or not!? I can tell you that I have far better things to do today and am willing to set them aside to assist a new student, which I am only offering to do out of the goodness of my heart!"

As Arthur huffed angrily, a tiny smile spread across Alfred's handsome features. The other blond narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the American.

"What on earth are you smirking at?"

The taller male laughed heartily. "It's good to finally officially meet you, Arthur. I hope I can be a good vice president for you!"

* * *

_I figured I should practice writing them. But I've come to realize, after doing 'Fright Night', that I feel... aged... when I write Arthur. Haha, must be a curse. -shot-_

_Ok sooo I decided to take on the 100 theme challenge! I got bored the other day and split up the list randomly into two parts. Fifty ficlets will be USUK, and the other fifty will be PruCan. I'm also planning on slipping in a few RussLiet stories when I get bored._

_-also irrelevant, but I finally have a Romano for my Feli cosplay! I'm so happy XD-_

_Thank you for reading! Reviews are appreciated, not demanded, and flames will be used to stoke the fire of Mrs. Lovett's oven. Axis Powers: Hetalia does not belong to me, and any copyright privileges belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.  
_


	2. 30 Under the Rain USUK

Arthur wasn't sure how long he had been running, but he was certain from the stitch in his side that he had not stopped since he began. Why did the airport have to be so far from the capital, anyway? The blonde felt his shoe catch on a bump in the sidewalk and he flew forward into the sleek concrete. At least the rain had broken his fall. He got up insteadily, breathing so hard he was sure he would cough out his lungs and leave them lying on the sidewalk in Washington D.C. After a moment, the Briton hissed in pain; his palms had been sliced open in the fall.

"Damn..."

Steeling himself, Arthur began running again, slower than before but putting Romano's greyhounds to shame. He could hear the similar pattern of footsteps behind him, knowing they belonged to one of Parliament's secret service agents. Damn the countries and their stupid need to be protected.

What seemed like hours passed. Arthur was positive he could have gotten his plane to land closer to Arlington, but after the events of the day before, anything traveling in and out of the United States had been blocked off unless it was governmental. Smoke curling into the air signaled that Arthur was mere moments from his destination and he sped up, earning a tired groan from the agent following him.

The dismal remains of the western walls of the Pentagon came into view and Arthur felt tears choke in his throat. A million questions formed in his mind and he began to slow, taking in the sight of the ambulances and fire trucks and police cars. He noted a limousine parked off to the side on the street, men in black suits speaking discreetly into their hands. Secret service, and a lot of them. Now Arthur knew he was in the right place.

Rushing forward, and slipping on muddy grass, the Briton made his way through the chaos toward the remains of one of America's most proud buildings. Smoke stung his eyes and he squinted through it, ignoring the shouts of officers and paramedics. A still form managed to catch his eye through the dust and he sighed in relief.

"Alfred!"

The person stiffened before turning around to face Arthur. The blonde stopped immediately at the sight of his friend. Alfred was pale beyond belief, dust coating his skin in a grimy paste and tears in his jacket. A trickle of dry blood fell from his temple. Arthur bit back a gasp.

"Alfred... bloody hell, Alfred..." He rushed over to the American, tripping again when he found his shoes had begun to sink into the mud. Slim hands, shaking like leaves, went up to cup Alfred's face gently. Arthur's thumb attempted to whipe blood and dirt from the other's cracked glasses, to no avail. "You were in there...?"

The country of the United States of America nodded shortly. "Yeah." He brought up his arm to grip Arthur's hand in his own, his elbow creaking unhealthily. "You... you came here..."

"Of course I did, you daft prat!" Arthur tried to force himself to bite back the tears that formed in his eyes. "As soon as I heard, I came. I can't tell you how hard it was to even get the plane off the ground, let alone land over here. You boss is a right prick, you know that? Stupidest man alive!"

A ghost of a grin crossed Alfred's face and he turned his gaze back to the burning building. Ashes were being tossed around even through the rain, and the smoke that billowed up from the Pentagon was thick as night. The flames from the gas leaks were doing nothing to help. Arthur could see his friend's Adam's apple bob stiffly in his throat and knew that Alfred was trying so hard not to break down into tears.

"Sir, Mr. Kirkland, you need to return to London at once!" The sharp voice of the agent that had been following Arthur cut in and the blond turned to him, livid.

"I am not leaving. You can tell Her Majesty and Mr. Blair that! I am not leaving the United States of America." His thick eyebrows crossed deftly, causing the agent to frown and speak into the cell phone that he had pressed against his chest. He repeated the words that Arthur had said, then hung up, walking away to speak to the other obvious agents that littered the grounds of the Pentagon. Arthur turned back to Alfred, who was still staring at the destruction of his government. "We... we should-"

"I'm not going anywhere either, Arthur. And you can't make me. I'm gonna find the bastards what did this, you can be damned fucking sure of that. But not right now. Not now, Arthur. They need me." Dull blue eyes, reddened from the smoke, turned on the Briton. He sighed.

"Alright."

Alfred paused before leaning down to Arthur's height, pressing their foreheads together. "I... sorta need you here, too." Arthur nodded, his eyes closing as tears began to spill from Alfred's hurt ones. He would not see the other in this fragile state. September eleventh, and the days following, would break something in Alfred F. Jones, and though Arthur would do all that he could, he could never stop the man from invading the middle east and destroying the lives of millions, even of his own people.

It would be another day to live in infamy.

* * *

_I got inspired today because it started raining. This is number 30 in the theme challenge, Under the Rain. Sorry for going out of order, but I'm doing this as I get inspiration. Hope you like it~_


	3. 92 All That I Have PRUCAN

Matthew should have known that something was wrong when the clock struck four and Gilbert still wasn't home. The blond did know that the former nation had gone drinking with Francis and Antonio, but the three never stayed out so late. Even if they all got drunk beyond reason, they would always drag each other home, or rather, they would wander back on unsteady legs.

Matthew had stayed up to make sure that the albino man had made it home safely, but now he was just worried beyond belief. Gilbert hadn't answered his cell phone, and neither had Francis, and Matthew was unlucky enough not to have Antonio's number. The blond sighed in frustration as he stood from the couch, leaving a confused-looking Kumajiro staring after him from the neighboring cushion.

"Gilbert... where are you...?"

Matthew made his way nervously into the kitchen, groaning as the clock on the stove blared a red 4:23 AM. The Canadian man, with an obnoxious itch in his hands to do something productive, pulled the refrigerator open, staring blankly at the bottles of maple syrup and half-full cans of beer. Yes, this was definitely their house.

A thump at the door sent Matthew flying into the air, clutching his heart as his eyes widened in shock. "Gilbert!?" he called out of habit, hoping he was correct in his assumption. The door flew open and, in a flurry of limbs, the missing albino stumbled into the front hall. Matthew hurried over to him. "Oh my God, Gilbert! Are you okay? I've been so worried about you-"

He was cut off as Gilbert emptied whatever was in his stomach on the hardwood floor. "Fucking dammit..." the German muttered, gripping Matthew's arm with one hand and wiping his mouth with the other. "B-birdie.... _never_ let me go out with those bastards again..." Red eyes, bloodshot from a lack of sleep and the intake of alchohol, turned to Matthew's.

The blond sighed and shook his head. "Deep down I knew, eh. I knew you'd gotten caught up with them. What in the world did you drink...?" He examined the bile on the floor, feeling his own stomach turn over on itself.

"Some... ugh... something... France... thing..." The ex-nation unconsciously snuggled into Matthew's arms, causing their bodies to fall to the floor messily. Gilbert's body began shaking. "M-mattie..."

Matthew looked down at the other, blinking in shock as the unmistakable sound of sobs rose from the albino's throat. "Eh?"

"New.... New Prussia...."

The blond Canadian felt a blush form on his cheeks. New Prussia... the only allusion to Gilbert's country that remained on the planet. "What about it, Gil?"

"Thanks... t-thanks birdie... for keeping her... No one else..." A burp emitted itself from the man's mouth as he paused. "No one else would..."

Matthew smiled softly to himself. "I know, Gil. I know."

Strong arms tightened around the smaller male. "You're all I got left now, birdie... don't.... don't turn into them..."

"Of course not."

A sigh, mixed in with quiet words, did not reach Matthew's ears, and when the blond didn't react, Gilbert sobered enough to be glad. It wasn't time yet. Not yet.

* * *

_Oh, I keep forgetting to let you guys know that stories on here are easier to read if you view them at 3/4 view. Up in the right hand corner, across from the story info._

_This was born from a need to continue writing. I'm in the mood. I hope you like this one. Number 92 in the theme challenge, All That I Have. Oh, and New Prussia is a city in Ontario._


	4. 50 Breaking the Rules USUK

050. Breaking the Rules.

"How the bloody _hell_ did you get elected for vice president?" Arthur spouted from his spot beside Alfred.

The American grinned. "I'm a hero! I did a favour for the dean and he said the position was available because no one wanted to work with you." Blue eyes turned on green, glistening with mirth as Arthur flushed darkly. "Hey, at least, I'm a load off your back, eh?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, the irony of Alfred's statement increasing tenfold with their current position kneeling behind a bush on the school grounds, spying on the football team (_football_, Arthur reminded haughtily, _not_ soccer) as they practised. Alfred insisted it was heroic surveillance, not spying, but Arthur could argue otherwise. Their target was a burly senior by the name of Ivan Braginski, a Russian transfer student who was rumoured to have connections with the Mafia in every country in the world. According to Alfred's ridiculous plan, the man was scheduled to snap at his very hour and go on a bloody rampage through the school with the lead pipe that people believed he kept on hand in his dormitory.

"I hardly call you forcing me to break the rules a load off of my back," Arthur commented, earning a disbelieving gape from the so-called 'heroic' American.

"What!?" he exclaimed, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth as Ivan's steely violet eyes gazed in their direction. "There's no way we're breaking the rules! There's no rule against making sure people are safe!"

Arthur bristled. "Hardly! Especially when I have work to do…" he retorted firmly. He glanced back behind his at the student activities building which housed the counsel room.

"Pssh. Shut up, it's not as if the school's gonna burn down because you didn't sign a paper or two. You gotta loosen up sometime! Ah!" A sudden realisation seemed to alight on Alfred's sun-tanned face. "That's it! Hey, Artie, come to town with me on Saturday! We can totally stop by this awesome burger place I found!"

The depth of Alfred's invitation didn't strike the shorter Briton until after he complained about his new nickname. "W-what?" he sputtered in disbelief. He was determined to believe that he had been hearing things, but he knew that his luck would not have it that way."

If possible, Alfred's beam grew in intensity. "Come out with me!" 

* * *

  
It was still uncertain at this point, but Arthur felt that the week had passed by unhealthily fast. He caught up with the student counsel's paperwork whenever he had time, and before he knew it, Saturday morning had arrived. The blond Briton lay in his single bed, staring at the ceiling as the realisation hit him. He was going out with Alfred Jones.

Well, it was more a mutual, consensual agreement to go to the same restaurant, Arthur reminded himself indignantly.

With a shuddering sigh, Arthur pushed himself out of bed, staring around at his sparsely decorated dormitory unhappily. He was happy to have the room to himself, as it meant that he needn't bother with an obnoxious room mate that went out at all hours of the morning, but at the same time the counsel president felt chilled by the loneliness. Shaking his head, he proceeded to get ready for the day and head out to the main gate.

When he arrived at his destination, he wasn't surprised at the lack of American, so he leaned against a stucco-covered pillar for some time before a yelp brought him out of his thoughts. Arthur turned to see Alfred stumbling towards him, a sheepish grin on his face as he slipped his signature bomber jacket over his shoulders.

"Sorry I'm late, Artie! Stupid Matt didn't wake me up like he said he would…" The taller blond frowned before turning a glimmering smile on Arthur, who supplied the statement with a flush and scoff.

"Relying on others? How impure." Alfred clicked his tongue, coming up beside him.

"Whatever." He looked forward, where the campus drive lead down to the main road. "Hey, thanks for comin' with me today! I know you could use it, too!"

Arthur's flush increased slightly. "I-I do suppose you're right."

* * *

  
The walk to town was long, but thankfully not awkward, as the two young men exchanged light-hearted conversation about school (with occasional and unrelated bursts from Alfred about how awesome he was). Arthur shamefully found his gaze travelling to the taller American every now and then, wondering how he could stay so lively; it was beginning to become contagious.

"Alfred," he cut in, pulling the other from relating a tale about fishing, "Exactly how far is this restaurant?" They were well into town now, just aimlessly wandering the streets.

Alfred laughed quietly. "W-well to be honest… I don't really remember-"

"What in the bloody _hell_, Alfred!" Arthur turned slightly red in annoyance at the man's admittance. "So we've been walking around with no idea where we're going!?"

A pout formed on Alfred's face as he threaded his fingers behind his head. "Don't yell at me. I accomplished my goal."

Arthur blinked. "What do you mean?"

The Briton could have sworn he saw a blush darken the other's cheeks as he stuttered into speech. "I… just wanted to hang out, ya? I mean, you're pretty cool once you get past the eyebrows but…"

Arthur's fingers went up to scratch his brow unconsciously.

"I think it's worth it," Alfred continued to mumble, his own hand fidgeting with the hair at the base of his neck.

Arthur was sure his flush was audible from the rush of blood into his cheeks. "Ah… r-really now…"

The two young men stood there awkwardly at the corner of an intersection, cars travelling past them swiftly and paying no heed to the students. A long silence passed between them.

"Alfred, I-"

"I wanted to-"

They started at the same time, pausing in sync as a nervous laugh boiled up from their stomachs. "Please, go first," Arthur said, glancing across the street to avoid looking at the American.

Alfred nodded. "I-it's just… you're really cool, ya know? You're a handful, but it's all good." He smiled at the Briton slightly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Arthur glanced back at him and flushed, nodding. "I… thank you, Alfred. No one has ever… made a claim like that to me."

"Great!" Alfred's beam returned and Arthur sputtered before looking away from him. "Now come on, let's go somewhere cool!" Alfred's hand grabbed onto Arthur's, and the smaller Briton followed with a helpless shake of the head.

They were both handfuls.

* * *

_Number 50, Breaking the Rules. Something of a continuation of Introduction, but mostly because Alfred first came to mind when I thought of someone breaking the rules. Not my best, so I promise to improve with the next one!  
_


	5. 36 Precious Treasure SUFIN

036. Precious Treasure

The jewellery box was small and gold, round like an egg and encrusted with diamonds and sapphires formed in the shape of the Finnish flag. The clasp was old but still clicked gently. Tino's eyes sparkled in happiness as he stared at it, love blooming in the pit of his stomach.

"Berwald-"

"Tino... I w'nt ya t' have 't..."

The smaller blond looked up at the other with a wide smile. "It's gorgeous." He wanted to continue admiring the box, but something began eating at his mind as he stared at Berwald. The look the man held on his stern features was his usual stoic one, but Tino had been with him long enough to note the subtle differences; this look was troubled and torn, as if he was anticipating something happening. "But... why give me this?"

Berwald's sea foam eyes flickered away for a moment, gazing over to where Peter was curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace, sleeping with Hanatamago wrapped up in his arms. "J'st t' have 't. 'S not much, b't I thought ya would l'ke 't."

Tino shook his head, setting the jewellery box down in his lap in favour of holding Berwald's hand. A tiny tinge of pink formed on the elder man's cheeks. "I love it, Berwald. I always will, but..." He hesitated, shifting their hands. "I can't help but feel like it's a parting gift, like I won't be able to see you for a long time." At this point he was unaware of the tears falling down his face until Berwald's free hand came up to wipe them away, stroking, stroking the Finn's cheek with his thumb. Tino felt his skin flare at the touch as he locked eyes with Berwald.

"We sh'ld treat ev'ry day l'ke 't's 'r last, Tino," the taller said after a few moments. Tino noticed the torn look was gone and replaced with something more kind and gentle, more loveable. Tino felt a goofy smile form before he sat up on the couch, wrapped his arms around Berwald's neck, and pressed their lips together passionately. The taller man responded immediately, holding Tino against him by his waist. They continued for a moment before pulling back for air.

"Come back... come back soon, okay?"

Berwald nodded, bringing the other blond in for another small kiss before holding him in a gentle hug. "Pr'mise."

* * *

The next morning, Tino awoke to an empty bed. He sat up, staring around at the now dreary room. With a quick glance at Berwald's side of the bed, he noticed a note sitting on the pillow, folded over with Tino's name on the front. The blond reached for it, unfolding it slowly; he really didn't want to read Berwald's last words to him for who knew how long.

_Tino, we may not be together, but you are always in my heart. You are my treasure, as the box was once my king's. I will return to you. -Berwald_

Tino placed a hand over his mouth, feeling tears prick at his violet eyes, the door opened then and Peter entered, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Tino beckoned him over, pulling him into the bed and snuggling under the blankets.

"Dad, where's Papa?" Peter asked slowly.

The elder stroked the boy's hair. "He's on an adventure."

"What kind of adventure?"

Tino found himself smiling as he leaned his chin on Peter's head, holding the boy close.

"He's going after some treasure.

* * *

_Um... yeah idk. Requested by satsuki0inuzuka 'cause she wanted some SuFin. I haven't written them in a while and they were my second otp when I got into the fandom. 8D Hope you enjoyed!  
_


	6. 2 Love PRUCAN

002. Love.

As some point in time, Gilbert Beilschmidt was in love. Well, he was pretty sure he was, anyway. He assumed that the increased blood flow, nervous twitches, and fumbled words were all symptoms of the love that Francis spoke so freely of. Of course, Gilbert was annoyed with this fact. He was too awesome for all that sappy girlish stuff! Plus, he didn't have time to fall in love; he was far too busy getting everyone to notice him to be distracted but something as girlish and sappy and downright amazing as love.

If he had to fall in love though, he was happy with his choice. Matthew was just like him, as far as being recognised went; they were both invisible to the world, cast off to the side like bad apples, always hidden in the shadows of those before them: Gilbert in Germany's and Matthew in America's. It was a sick cycle, the Prussian thought, knowing that they would never be recognised for their awesomeness because of their brothers. Gilbert was sure that Ludwig didn't mean it at least, he just wasn't that kind of a person to rub recognition in someone's face, but he was also sure that Alfred was capable of it, even if he was too busy being obnoxious to know he was hurting his brother.

A frown. Gilbert would never have used the word 'obnoxious' himself if Ludwig hadn't made that unforgettable comment two years after the fall of the Wall. At that time Gilbert was still recognised by the world as far as being Ludwig's brother, but it had been long since he had been referred to as Prussia. Ludwig had come home late from a meeting and when Gilbert attempted to get information out of his sibling, the blond had told him to stop being obnoxious and go do whatever non-nations did. Gilbert had resented the statement on the outside, but did well to hide the choked feeling in his throat and the shaking in his limbs.

Several years, decades if Gilbert remembered correctly (though he had lost all sense of time when his birthday was wiped from the calendars), passed before Gilbert decided that he needed to do something. With the passage of war, time, and the Industrial Age, there came a point in time when Gilbert, fawning over Kiku's new laptop models, thought that he should make his presence known to the world once more. Alfred's boy Gates, or whatever his name was, was surely a genious, and Gilbert was happy to oblige utilising the man's creations. He wasn't sure if it was legal, but at that point he didn't really care, so he hacked the blog of a random company (he couldn't bother with creating his own, and hacking was a more awesome way to go about things anyway) and set to work recreating the history of Prussia.

That was when everything began snowballing, Gilbert realised. A grin. At some point along the way, possibly when he was ranting about how awesome he was that one day after invading England's house for lunch, China and Hong Kong visited, having minor business with Germany. While waiting for the blonde to return (having gone shopping earlier in the day), China produced a slew of stuffed cats, all with that awkwardly non-awesome grin on their faces. Many confusing philosophies later, and Gilbert's room was piled with the stuffed animals and his wallet was considerably lighter. He cursed himself and set to work blogging about how China was _not_ awesome at all.

Two days later, Germany had more visitors, but this time it was America dragging along his brother. While Alfred attempted to put on a friendly exchange of music (he'd been dabbling in the art of DJ-ing), Matthew took it upon himself to tour the house, discreetly looking for his reason for even agreeing to tag along with his brother in the first place. Knowing he wouldn't be missed, since Alfred and Ludwig were deep in conversation, Matthew wandered upstairs. He was met by a hallway full of doors and set to work searching. Door after door was opened and closed before stumbling into a room in which the door hadn't been properly closed. To this day Gilbert hit himself mentally at the memory, knowing that Matthew had scared the shit out of him and caused the Prussian to yelp non-awesomely and fall out of bed, sending Gilbird flying at the intrusion.

It was the first time either of them had spoken to each other since they had first met nearly a century before. Gilbert was initially confused as to why Canada was in his room, clutching that polar bear and muttering stuff about maple. He asked, and Matthew seemed confused at the fact that Gilbert knew who he was. A comment about Alfred being the obnoxious one and Canada the cool one had the blond's cheeks flushed as they met halfway across the floor. Matthew held out a bottle of maple syrup, saying the he had read Gilbert's blog about China's non-awesomeness and that the syrup would surely bring happiness to the consumer. Gilbert masked his surprise with a grin and obliged the Canadian.

The meeting sparked something with the two invisible nations, though Gilbert was more confused than anything. For decades he had had no more than an occasional second glance, and to suddenly find that Matthew had been reading his blog, enough to know that the Prussian was mad that he'd been tricked by China (well, okay, so it wasn't_ that_ hard, Gilbert admits, remembering all of the not cool's, not awesome's, and Communist bastard's he'd fitted into the entry) was a shocking revelation and it made his stomach and heart flutter unhealthily until he was forced to ask advice from France of all people on how to make it stop. Needless to say Francis was upset that the feelings were caused by his 'petit Mathieu' but overcame his fatherly rant long enough to tell Gilbert to admit that he was in love and the butterflies would die down. The Prussian was less than happy that there were things so non-awesome as butterflies in his stomach, and as such decided that the best way to get them out was to do what Francis said.

The confession could have been better, by Gilbert's opinion. In their growing friendship, Gilbert had taken to visiting Matthew on more than one occasion, and it was during one of these visits, with Gilbert lounging at the breakfast table and Matthew at the stove, that the Prussian admitted that he thought he was in love with Matthew. The Canadian's reaction was more endearing than anything, though it surprised Gilbert: a jolt, dropping the spatula on the floor, knocking the skillet across the stove, a loud curse, and a groan as the blond stooped to pick up the spatula. After a few moments of silence, Gilbert asked what the other thought. More silence. Then, stuttering a bit, Matthew asked if Gilbert was serious, and the ex-nation replied in the positive. It was only after five minutes of kissing, with the blond perched precariously on Gilbert's lap, that Gilbert realised that Matthew had returned his feelings, and the butterflies had left only to be replaced by the elated sensation of being in love.

More years would pass generously, though Gilbert's sense of time was replaced because he now had his and Matthew's anniversary to remember. Gilbert was, in a word, awesome. He had never felt more amazing and awesome and so totally in love. In the first few months of their relationship, their interactions were awkward and nervous, but Gilbert was content. Matthew admitted that he was, as well. It was the general consensus that they were now leading the best time of their lives. New Prussia was born sometime along the way, though Matthew would hardly admit that the child was Gilbert's lest Alfred, Arthur, or even Francis decide that it was too soon and Gilbert needed to learn how to control his 'five metres.' Both dysfunctional families would, however, learn to live with it.

A sigh. Gilbert's life is still at this point, the feeling of love still lingering in the pit of his stomach and all the way up into his heart. He feels movement beside his waist and looks down ritualistically to see Matthew curled up, one arm around Gilbert and the other around New Prussia, who has come to visit for the week. The elder Prussian wants to kiss Matthew and their child, but he is content. After all, he's in love with this feeling.

* * *

_Number 2, Love. I can tell you I had no idea where I was going with this, but it was amusing to write, even if the most amusing part was when I was writing in class and people were staring at me because I was writing without stopping at all... heh. The words kept coming, even after my wrist seized.  
_

_I also really have no idea how the April Fool's China-Prussia-Canada thing went down, I just read the facts, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies on that part :3  
_


	7. 12 Insanity GERITA

Warning: Heavy gore in this.

* * *

012. Insanity

Blood.

Bodies.

Knives and guns.

Blank, harsh eyes, staring at the ceiling in eternal gazes.

The sound of wood against flesh, pounding pounding until there was nothing left to pound.

Italy watched with a horror he had never felt, never thought he would witness. Never knew that his ally, his friend, his love, could do such a thing.

Splatters of blood rose from the body before him, flecking his tear-stained face in red. Grunts of effort spilled from the one standing before him, over the body that was beyond dead but was still being bludgeoned with a splintered rifle.

Germany's uniform was dyed, the blood turning the forest green to black in the dim light of the building. The only source of light, a single naked bulb dangling precariously from the tall ceiling. The walls had no windows; if there had been windows, they would be soaked with blood.

All of a sudden, the pounding stopped. The only sounds left were Germany's panting and Italy's barely audible whimpers. Italy curled in on himself, pressing his hands to his head as if trying to squeeze the sights from his mind. Germany pulled himself to full height, tossing the rifle aside with carelessness, and spat on the body before him.

"_Das wird dich lehren, Ally Abschaum_."

There was silence as Germany caught his breath and Italy allowed his sobs to come freely now.

"_Merda... merda, Germania! Lei non ha... Non hanno fatto nulla!_"

The scream echoed in the room, and Italy awaited an answer, knowing that Germany understood him.

"_Nein_," the answer came finally, "_sie dir weh getan. __Ich hatte um Sie zu schützen._"

"_No! No no no no no! Germania, siete dei folli._.."

Sobs overtook him once more, and he faintly heard Germany stalk back over to him and gather him in his arms, blood soaking both of their uniforms further. Germany began to whisper words, meant to be soothing but Italy could have cared less at that moment and he thumped his fists against his love's chest, silently berating him.

"_Ti amo, Germania... ti amo, ti amo_..."

"_Ich liebe dich, mein liebling.._."

* * *

_Hm. I've rewritten this four times and I'm still not happy with it. Please correct my Italian and German, since I know that I have butchered it beyond belief.  
_


	8. 8 Innocence SUFIN

008. Innocence

Seeing Sweden asleep was a rare occurrence that Finland treasured. It was intriguing to watch as the man's broad chest rose and fell with each measured breath, to see full and delicate blond lashes touch sharp cheeks, to notice how the forever-permanent scowl simply melted away to give rest to the skin between thin eyebrows. All of the expressions that Sweden took on when he was sleeping were those that not even Denmark, the man who had held the firm Scandinavian captive for decades, had seen.

These expressions were solely for Finland. The tiny blond nation reveled in this fact whenever it happened that he awoke before Sweden, or managed to catch him during a nap. Finland was proud that he was at such a status as to see one of the strongest and tallest nations in the world at his most vulnerable.

If it took a word to describe Sweden's sleeping state, Finland would say that he looked innocent. It was a word that, had any other nation said it, would seem contradictory and untrue, but to Finland it just seemed _right_. Despite the fact that Sweden had once been a warrior of the highest degree, had once been a harbinger of destruction and death int the northernmost part of the globe, he had been reduced to the humble giant that he was now, one that muttered his words and made furniture and sewed in his free time. Innocence was the picture of Sweden in the current day, all embarrassed blushes and scowls.

Finland loved the Sweden he had nowadays, though he was still wary of subjects that made the taller man's frown deepen. The small Nordic would still admit to being afraid of Sweden, but with the development in their relationship after escaping Denmark, adopting Hanatamago, and gaining custody of Sealand, Finland had come to learn that Sweden was the type who was always scary to look at, but not a scary person. Under the gruff exterior of sea-foam green eyes, broad shoulders, and large hands, Sweden was more like a teddy bear.

Finland chuckled to himself from his place laying beside the larger nation. Sweden, asleep with Hanatamago curled around the crown of his head, was a sweet man. The smaller Scandinavian still remembered when they had first left Denmark and the other man had allowed Finland to follow him. They had taken care of each other back then, and still did, but now with the added warmth of requited love, full understanding of each other, and a small but functional family. Finland wouldn't change the purity of their lives for anything.

There was a comfortable silence in the room as Finland occupied himself with running his fingers through short straw-colored hair and along the strong outline of a chin. Sweden hummed under his breath, an endearing sound that made the Finnish nation smile widely, before he glanced down to a scar marring a broad shoulder. Deft fingers traced the jagged skin gently.

"Fin...?"

The voice permeated the silence, but didn't startle Finland as he pulled away. "Good morning, Su-san," he greeted, his smile from before returning. Sweden grumbled and opened one eyes, revealing an ocean to the smaller man.

"How l'ng ya been awake?"

"Just a few minutes, don't worry. Do you want me to start breakfast?"

A pale flush appeared on pallid cheeks. "S'rry. Didn't mean t'..."

"I said," Finland started, chuckling as he sat up from the masses of white blankets, "don't worry about it, Su-san." He was about to crawl out of bed, but a strong arm wrapped around him from behind and tugged until he was settled against an equally strong chest. The small nation felt his cheeks become pink as he glanced back at Sweden; the man looked like he'd succumbed to sleep once more, but was planting expertly placed kissing against Finland's bared neck. The Finn bit back a groan. "Su-san, it's too early..."

"'xactly," was the short response. There was another firm kiss to the back of Finland's ear before the barrage halted.

Finland sighed, closing his eyes. "And to think I thought you were innocent."

He didn't miss the smirk that formed against his skin.

* * *

_Hee._

_Number 8, Innocence. Written as a request from my own Su-san for a fic exchange. We'll be cosplaying as Finland and Sweden at Otakon this year, so don't be afraid to say hi!_


	9. 22 Mother Nature SPAMANO

022. Mother Nature

The sun was in Antonio's skin. It was the only thing that he could focus on as Lovino watched the Spaniard harvest plump new tomatoes, eyes following the bare skin of his caretaker from the kitchen window and the coolness of the air-conditioned house.

Antonio wasn't just tan or golden or sun-kissed. He _was_ the sun. It was as simple as that. Lovino knew he was staring, but he didn't care. He was just so amazed at how Antonio could be the most crucial part of the universe. It wasn't just Mother Nature talking, it was the heavens giving the man the most glorious complexion in the world.

Antonio had caught him staring, but Lovino couldn't care less. He was watching the sun, watching as the sun smiled brightly, waved a tomato, and started walking back towards the house with a basket under one arm. The Spaniard's hat had fallen off when he stood from his plants and now hung around his neck by a leather string. The shade from the garment was no longer shielding the brightness of Antonio's... sun-ness.

Lovino knew that he was still staring, and hadn't responded to Antonio's greeting, but felt no desire to look away from the sun-skin adorning the other's firm body. He did, however, however sinful it was, have the desire to jump Antonio and ravish him and claim the sun for his own He would kiss and lick and nibble and _bite_ and-

"_Querido_?"

To hell with it. Surely the heaven's could forgive him if he stole the sun for one day.

* * *

_Ohoho. Naughty Lovi._

_Needed some Spamano loving. Gonna be with my own querido at Anime Mid-Atlantic in two weeks._


	10. 9 Drive USUK

009. Drive

"_Hey, Artie, let's take a road trip."_

_"What?"_

_"We haven't done anything in a while, well, at least just the two of us. Let's take a road trip. D.C., to Texas, to Sacramento or something."_

_"We have work to do-"_

_"Come on, please, Artie! I wanna spend time with you!"_

_"Bloody hell… fine."_

Arthur stole a glance at the American in the seat beside him. Blue eyes were closed to the world, messy blond hair mussed against the headrest. Alfred had fallen asleep four hours ago after a pit stop in Fort Worth, leaving the annoyed Briton to get them on their merry way again.

The point of the trip was to take the longest route possible from one end of America to the other, while basking in each other's presence. So far, either Alfred or Arthur had spent half of it asleep. Arthur huffed as he pulled the car off the highway and turned into the parking lot of a picnic station; his legs were hurting and he was sure that Alfred would complain about being hungry when he awoke. According to their map, once they were out of this county, there wouldn't be another service station for several hours.

"Alfred, get you," the tired blond called. He reached a hand over the center console to prod the American awake. Success! Alfred let out a large yawn, stretching in his seat. Blue eyes turned to smile at Arthur in the dim light of the service station.

"Hey, Artie. Where are we?"

"A couple of hours from New Mexico. We'll stop in Carlsbad, I think."

Alfred nodded and leaned his head back onto the headrest, still watching Arthur carefully. "Awesome. You know they have the best bat caverns ever? We should go."

"Alright."

There was silence, then Alfred's stomach let loose a huge gurgle. The American laughed, and Arthur rolled his eyes affectionately.

"Come on, then. They're bound to have some of your horrendous snack foods in vending machines here."

Alfred followed the other out of the car and into the station. Sure enough, the machines stood there proudly displaying their wares of beef jerky and candy bars. Alfred paused, holding tightly onto Arthur's hand.

"What is it?"

"I had a dream about you."

"Really now?"

Alfred nodded and smiled. "Yeah. It was the day we established the Special Relationship, except I was dressed as Superman and you were Lois. Pretty awesome, huh?"

Arthur scoffed, flushing as he began to imagine himself in a high-collared blouse and pencil skirt. "Come off it, git. That's ridiculous."

"Yeah, but you still love me, right?"

There was a contented nod from the Briton. "Of course. Get your damn chocolate and let's go. You're driving into Carlsbad."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Alfred did as told and soon enough they were on the road once more. Almost as soon as Alfred pulled the car over the New Mexican border, Arthur was asleep. The American hummed and formed a large smile as he looked at the other.

"In the morning, you can tell me your dreams, too, Arthur."

* * *

_Heavily inspired by Melissa Etheridge's song You Can Sleep While I Drive. It's really sweet, you should listen to it!_

_Number nine in the 100 theme challenge, Drive._


	11. 67 Playing the Melody PRUAUS

067. Playing the Melody

Music filled the room over the loud, broken conversations of the employees that attended the annual Christmas party. Gilbert was already starting to feel the effects of inebriation, so he found shelter at a table beside the grand piano, hoping that if he tried to shat up the guy playing then he would be distracted enough not to continue drinking that _damn fine_ champagne.

The albino pushed his empty glass across the table and moved to loosen his tie; there was a reason he forewent wearing one to work every day, he always felt like he was choking. As he did so, his eyes traveled to the piano player. His heart began to beat loudly in his chest as his crimson gaze took in the perfect posture, the deft fingers flying across the ivories, and the look of pure bliss on the man's face. Gilbert would instantly admit that the guy was gorgeous, with those Hollywood features, delicate glasses, and a beauty mark reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe just beneath full and slightly open lips.

"Johann Sebastian Bach's Christmas Oratorio, if you are so inclined to know."

Gilbert blinked at the man, noticing a smirk and half-lidded violet eyes.

The amused purple orbs seemed to laugh out loud at Gilbert. "You were staring so intensely I assumed you wanted my attention," he continued over his music.

Gilbert finally caught on and returned with his own grin. "Nah, I just thought you were pretty hot."

The piano man was silent until the party ended.

* * *

Music filled the house, drifting through the hallways and into Gilbert and Roderich's shared bedroom. The albino man laid awake in bed and listened intently before he allowed himself to grin. He stood from the mattress, pulling a pair of discarded jeans over his boxers. After fluffing his hair in the mirror above the dresser, Gilbert left the room and headed down into the parlor.

A sight so familiar that it seemed like a painting greeted him. Roderich sat at the piano, fingers playing over the instrument with practiced ease while outside the window the sun reflected blindingly off the thick snow. Violet eyes were closed in pure happiness against the glaring light.

"Johann Sebastian Bach's Christmas Oratorio. You're already at the Aria in A, Rod," Gilbert said.

The brunette smiled, his eyes not opening to greet his lover. "I'm glad you remember."

"How could I forget?"

"Really?" violet eyes seemed to say as they finally met Gilbert's own.

"It's the same one you were playing when we first met. You've played it every Christmas since."

Roderich nodded, but the movement was lost as he leaned forward and back to reach across the piano and continue playing. "Sit with me."

Gilbert sat. "You know I'm not a fan, but I think it's the most awesome anniversary song ever." Pale arms wrapped around Roderich's middle, barely causing the Austrian to budge in his playing. As the Aria ended and Roderich fell into the Chorale, his movements slowed, allowing Gilbert to rest his chin on his shoulder. Then, the piano man sped up again to finish. His movements were slightly erratic, and the albino found himself chuckling as he released his lover.

Two minutes later, the parlor was silent again. Birds chirped outside the window as the sun rose in the sky. "Merry Christmas, Gilbert."

"Happy Anniversary, _Liebling_."

* * *

_Oh heavens, my first PruAus! I love Austria a lot, I'm just really afraid to write him because I don't have experience with his personality._

_I demand that you guys listen to Bach's Christmas Oratorio on piano. Preferably the Zoya and Pavel Zarukin duet on Youtube. It's absolutely gorgeous._

_Yes, I'm a classical nut. I listened to Mozart in the womb and grew up on Bach. Thank you very much. =w=_

_Number sixty-seven in the 100 theme challenge, Playing the Melody._


End file.
